


Life Is But A Dream

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A head injury causes Klink to spill the truth to his rescuer. Or does it?</p>
<p>Winner of Bronze Award in 2011 Papa Bear Awards, slash category.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life Is But A Dream

Klink knew the way back to his Stalag like the back of his hand. The trouble was, he had never studied the back of his hand on a moonless night, with thick clouds between his eyes and the back of his hand. How many people had? He had been at the monthly meeting for Kommandants, which consisted of Generals yelling at the others for letting prisoners escape, while the Kommandants shot Klink hateful looks. The stupid meeting had run four hours late, giving him a pounding headache. Their host, General Burkhalter, hadn't even felt the need to offer hors d'oeuvres, so Klink was starving.

Now, in the dim light of his headlamps the road was disappearing and Klink's dread was increasing. As the bushes crowded the road, concrete gave way to gravel. Klink knew he had made a wrong turn but could see no place to turn around. Backing up in this darkness would be stupid, stranding him out here when he backed into a tree. So Klink eased forward into the road and grinned like a loon when he saw another trail cross it. Slowly he turned the car around until he was pointing in the right direction and headed back to the main road. He had just come down that road, so he figured it was safe to speed up a little. Smiling now, he was thinking about the little Frenchman's cooking. He was the Kommandant after all, so maybe he would wake LeBeau and get a decent meal when he got back to camp. He could even bathe while LeBeau cooked. 

When the bang from the front right of the car forced him to fight the car to a stop before he slammed into a tree, Klink was too busy to wipe the smirk off his face. The smile disappeared as he sat for a few minutes and recovered from what had just happened. His mind calmed as he shut off the engine, but his hands were still trembling as he searched the car for the flashlight. Klink was enormously relieved to find the thieves hadn't taken it yet, probably because it was harder to find batteries than flashlights. He'd requisitioned a new radio months ago to replace the one that had been stolen. Getting out, Klink confirmed the right front tire had blown out and went to get the spare. It couldn't be that hard to change a tire, could it? But apparently he wasn't to find out tonight, since thieves had gotten to the spare tire. 

Opening the car door, he sat on the seat for a few moments to consider. Once he made it back to the main road, he was less than five miles from camp (he believed). The main road also made it possible that he could get a ride, something that would never happen on this wagon track he was on now. He could sit here, tired and hungry all night or walk in the dark. The thought that moving would be warmer than hiding in the car made up his mind for him. 

The flashlight helped him find the two papers in his briefcase that were important and he stuffed them in his coat. He only carried the briefcase to make him look important and busy, but for now he shoved it under the front seat so it wouldn't get stolen. Always a chance somebody would find the car before he could come back for it in the morning, but only if he wasn't there to be rescued with the car. 

It was an hour later when he was despairing of finding the main road that the heavy, solid wall of rain started. What had he ever done to deserve the luck of the damned? His whole life had been like this, and there were times he really hated being who he was. Little Wilhelm had been a Momma's boy, simply because she was the only one who ever thought he was special. Both parents had instilled the importance of his aristocratic heritage in him, even as they had little or no money to go with that grand name. Wilhelm had never shown a talent or aptitude for anything, even as their money situation had gotten desperate. His father had been right, about the army being the only place for great mediocrities like Wilhelm. If Germany hadn't been desperate for fighters in the Great War, he probably wouldn't have made it into the Luftwaffe. 

In running the only escape proof prison camp in Germany, and perhaps the world, Colonel Wilhelm Klink had finally found his calling. The sad part was, he hated it. One of his main reasons for bucking for general so hard was to get away from the thought that all he was good for was holding people against their will. The other main reason was Hogan, whose natural skill and brains commanded respect from everyone. It would never be that way for Klink, the pathetic fool. 

Because of his luck, who he was and what he was, Wilhelm was lonely. He only wanted to find somebody who would stay with him of their own free will. Every prisoner at roll call mocked his inability to find such a companion. Right now, he was stumbling through this world as best he could, trying not to see himself as other saw him. Wilhelm's fantasies of ability and control were all that kept him breathing. 

Something loud popped off to his right, and Klink turned his flashlight to see what it was. Shouting German words pointed out his light and more popping came his way. Realizing it was gunfire, Klink dove for the ground just as something bit into his head. Vaguely aware of landing on his side, Wilhelm was blinded by the light of the flashlight pointing into his eyes. Somewhere a familiar voice whispered words he couldn't seem to understand, even though he knew the language. 

"Blimey, that's not our contact, that's Klink!" 

"Do you think he's dead?" Wilhelm was sure his hunger and earlier thoughts just made him think that second voice had a French accent. 

"Don't know." The third voice confirmed this wishful thinking, because the third voice was Hogan's. "Lead the SS away, then get home. I'll see to Klink." 

"Why not leave the kraut for his buddies to find?" Annoyance and dislike made the British accent even thicker somehow. 

"Taking bets on what his replacement will be like? Do what I said. And stay safe." 

"Yes, sir." This acknowledgement had a ringing quality, like more than two voices answered at once. 

Wilhelm knew he was delusional, near death or unconscious, simply because he was hearing what he most wanted to hear. Hogan could do anything. With skill and wit, grace and charm, Hogan made even extraordinary men feel foolish. For whatever reason, Klink's dreamed-up voice of Hogan was taking care of him, so Klink would be fine. He wanted to thank the voice of Hogan, but his voice wasn't working. Wilhelm didn't have it in him to care. 

Bushes softly rustled, before gloved hands gently examined his head in the light. Wilhelm could only let it happen, as whatever commands his sluggish brain could conjure up were steadily ignored by his body. Arms wrapped around him and moved him away from the light. It was the silly logic of a dream, because moving the flashlight would have been easier in the real world. Or maybe the light made them a target for the shooters, but he didn't care about that either. The body he was cradled to was warm and Klink was glad to let the source of that warmth do whatever it wanted to him. 

"Come on, Klink! Open your eyes." 

Only this command made Wilhelm realize he had closed them at some point. Lying on his back, he was aware of warmth over him and floor beneath him. There was pain in his head now, where before there had only been numbness. He missed the numbness, but the worry in Hogan's voice was a nice distraction. In his dreams, Hogan wasn't an enemy, so he had to be dreaming still. But Wilhelm's dream body was now responding to his instructions, so he could grin up at Hogan as he opened his eyes. 

"Way to follow orders, Colonel Klink! You have a head wound and need to stay awake. Talk to me, tell me what you're doing out here." 

"Long meeting, dark, tired, lost, flat tire, wet. In dreams, I don't usually have to explain." Words came out before he could censor them, but who would his dream tell? 

"Dreams?" Hogan seemed to hesitate a moment before continuing. "Oh, yes, this is defiantly a dream. I'm safely sleeping the night away in my bunk. But talk to me anyway." 

"Dream. I'm no longer wet or cold, so I'm probably freezing to death." 

"For the purposes of this dream, I brought you to this collapsed barn to hide from the SS. There were more of them in the woods than I thought. They tend to shoot first, ask questions, and then shoot again. I took off your wet clothes and am keeping you warm with my body heat. The bullet wound is deep but your thick skull saved your life." 

"Hey! In my dreams people are supposed to care about me." Klink felt a little giddy as he replied to the face floating above him. Hogan's face was floating free of a body, and even the sides of his face were lost to darkness. The Luftwaffe trained colonel said Hogan was simply wearing all black and had removed the blackout camouflage grease from the front of his face, but why would Hogan have done any of those things? Silly dreams, silly dream logic. 

"I care, Klink, in my own special way. Now talk to me." 

"People in dreams always know all the answers." 

"But you don't, and dreams help you figure them out. So talk to me about your deepest problems." 

"Funny. What problems could I possibly have?" Wilhelm actually did laugh at that. Giddy laughter that sounded hysterical even in his confused state. 

Hogan slipped a gentle hand over his mouth as he looked away. Wilhelm couldn't focus on anything beyond the concern on Hogan's face and wishing it was real. Klink stopped laughing to consider that idea and the hand was removed. 

"Hogan, I had all my problems trapped in a corner of my mind, where I didn't have to deal with them. I could pretend to be someone liked, normal, or useful. Then I met you and my problems multiplied. So much of my effort is directed toward not talking to you that I can't even do it in dreams, so leave me alone." 

Hogan looked down at him with a confused look for a long moment. "Fine, nothing too personal then. How about politics? Why don't you tell me why you never joined the Nazi party?" 

"Hogan!" Wilhelm shook his head at that very personal question, but stopped when it sent waves of pain through his head. After they passed Wilhelm opened his eyes to see Hogan's worried expression. "I'm stupid, I know. I can only dream of being good at something, anything. But not even I am stupid enough to think I could be open about myself. It's always been very clear what is done with the likes of me, and that was before the Nazi party. My 'beloved' Fuehrer would imprison, torture, shame, and kill me if he knew what I was." 

"You have Jewish blood? I've heard those camps are nothing like the propaganda films, but few things ever are as the films show." 

"It is not just the Jews we must hate now. The American expression I heard, stuck with me. Gypsies, queers and David's stars. It doesn't even cover the Blacks, but we never had many of them here. Your Sergeant was the first one I ever met and I recognize that he is more competent and intelligent than I am." Klink heard a soft, girlish giggle escape his throat and wondered at it for a moment. "If head wounds make me have dreams like this, maybe I should get shot more often." 

"What, a talking dream?" 

"Usually you know everything, just like you do in real life. You come to me and take what you want and I let you. Most all of my dreams are variations of that, and my nightmares are when you mock me or turn from me in disgust." 

"Did you hear that? Footsteps in the rain?" The face floated away, to look for the footsteps. 

"No, I hear only my dream asking me to explain the facts of life to him." The face still wasn't looking at him, so Wilhelm reached for it. His hands had been waiting for permission and for a free-floating face it was surprisingly hard to pull it down to him. "For this one dream, I have found something I know more about than you." 

Wilhelm grinned at Hogan's not close enough face for a long moment before bringing their lips together. The smile disappeared quicker than it had when the tire blew, as Klink realized his dream was turning into a nightmare. Hogan wasn't kissing him back. Pulling their lips apart, Wilhelm leaned to where Hogan's ear should be and made his argument. 

"Please Hogan. Kiss me and I swear to believe everything you say, no matter how outrageous. Touch me and I will feed your men caviar and champagne. Let this dream continue, because here my noble family isn't dirt poor and I can furnish our bedroom with luxury so we never have to leave it." Somehow, the bodiless head was moving him and Wilhelm found his back on the dirt floor once again. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the disgust on Hogan's face. 

"Stay with me, Klink. Colonel, open your eyes!" The voice was whispering, but the command was clearly there. 

"We are of equal rank, so you can't order me to face my nightmares." 

"You need to stay awake, but there's somebody out there. We're not safe." 

"I've never been safe, that's why I'm scared all the time." Wilhelm let himself get angry, but kept his voice soft so as to not make his headache worse. Opening his eyes allowed him to show his nightmare that he had survived worse. 

"The kids teased and called me names, but they would have gotten really cruel if they knew the truth. When I understood how perverted I was, I knew I'd never find love. Sex was the best I could hope for and I've only ever had sex with one guy. During the Great War, my roommate in the barracks would make me do things to him. If he had known how much I enjoyed what he made me do, he would have turned me in. I was resigned to a life alone, lying about who I was and feigning interest in girls. I didn't want to be Kommandant, but I thought at least I wouldn't be the only one not having sex. My biggest challenge was going to be limiting the fantasies I had about the men in camp, at least that's what I thought." 

A hand reached up to trace the floating face, the one that felt so real under his hand that the other hand had to touch it too. Klink's anger dissipated at that touch, leaving regret in its place. "But the devil sent an angel to tempt me, and I gave in to that temptation. My biggest challenge has been keeping the Gestapo away from you. I don't know all the things you get up to, but I know they would kill you if they knew what I know. A docile, subservient Colonel Hogan would have been handsome, but unremarkable. If you had accepted the role of a prisoner to his captor, I would have been fine. But you challenged my betters, talked circles around me, stole my schnapps, cigars, and heart. Love between men is impossible, but you make the impossible work for you all the time." 

"Klink, um, Wilhelm. You're injured, so you need to stay positive." Hogan's soft voice held concern, which caused Wilhelm to wonder if a dream that turned into a nightmare could turn back into a dream. "Why don't you tell me about your happiest memory?" 

"Nope, still a nightmare." Klink laughed a little at Hogan's confused look, like the dream man hadn't known about the question Klink had just found an answer to. "My happiest memory, is when we were in London. Walking down the streets with you beside me, I could pretend our reasons for being there were different. I was afraid of capture, torture, and death, but those are still my happiest days. I wanted to tell London High Command the truth and beg for asylum. I even considered getting you to sponsor me, but I knew better than to speak of it. You care for your men, which is rarer than you think, and you would not have left them to Burkhalter's mercy. Had they granted me asylum, you would have returned to the fight, or America, but you would have left me. I hate this war, but I often wish for it to continue simply because this is the only time I will get to spend with you." 

"Wilhelm, I…" A loud thump a few feet away was followed by a muffled groan and stopped Hogan's words. 

"Could you at least learn to fall quieter, Andrew?" Hogan was grinning at the whispered voice with the British accent, and left Klink to go toward that noise. Klink closed his eyes to the sudden chill and wished the bullet wound would hurry up and kill him already, anything to get out of this nightmare. 

"Guys, where are the patrols?" 

"We lost 'em, Sir, and split up to find you. The others will head home in twenty minutes if they don't find you." 

"I give orders for a reason." A heavy sigh that was somehow affectionate. "Your punishment for not following my orders is you get to help carry Klink back to camp. Wilson will decide if he needs a doctor or hospital. Don't listen to Klink, he's delusional and making even less sense than normal." 

The anger was back, overwhelming Klink's physical pain and heartbreak. Here he was, pouring out his heart to a figment of his imagination and that figment was passing him off to others! He wasn't a weakling, and he would rather walk then be treated this way by his own nightmares. Deciding that, Klink bolted straight up and slammed into something that registered as wood before he blacked out. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

When Klink woke up in the hospital, it was the empty room that let him know he was awake. No flowers or get well cards littered the private room and he had laid there for two hours before a nurse came to check on him. Alone, forgotten and in pain, so it was life as normal. The doctors released him for full duty five days later. They didn't say it, but he could see from their faces that they believed he was faking the continuing pain in his head. Klink had sighed and accepted their condemnation. He had stayed in the lonely room, recuperating and thinking about ways to die. His dreams and puffed up arrogance had deserted him, so he had only reality to spend time with. 

A private from Stalag 13 had picked him up in the same car that had caused this mess, but Klink was too tired to ask how they had found it. They arrived in camp after evening roll call and Klink had made it to his quarters without seeing anybody. He changed clothes and carried a large glass of schnapps to bed with him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at the alcohol instead of drinking it. The room was silent, so Klink was visibly startled when a large hand took the glass from him. Heart pounding, Klink watched the glass lift up so Hogan could drink it. Wide-eyed and mouth open, Klink watched Hogan shiver a little from the burn of such a large glass. 

"That'll help me warm up, thanks." Hogan kicked his shoes off as he sat next to Klink, who finally found his words. 

"Hogan! Get back to your barracks this minute!" 

"Normally I would, you know how I love following orders. But everybody would get in trouble if I was in my bunk come morning. How's your head?" 

"The headache won't go away, but the doctors think I'm faking." Klink reached up to rub at the spot that had impacted on the wood. It was a wound he couldn't explain to the curious doctors, since he didn't understand how he could hurt himself so bad while unconscious. "Wait! Why would there be trouble if you were in your bunk?" 

Hogan didn't answer right away, as he was changing position on the bed. Klink was still rubbing his head and only realized where Hogan was shifting to when he felt warmth surround him. Klink dropped his hands to the legs around him and turned wide eyes on the body behind him. Gentle hands turned his face back to the front and began massaging Klink's head. 

"Hogan, your hands are like ice!" 

"Yeah, the cold might help your headache. If not, they'll warm up shortly. I didn't have my gloves on me when your replacement sent me to the cooler." 

"Why did he send you to the cooler?" Klink had a hard time forcing those words out; he was trying to decide if he was asleep or not. This felt real, but Hogan was touching him so it had to be a dream again. 

"Because he could. That's why I didn't visit you in the hospital, so I hope you weren't disappointed." 

It didn't even occur to Klink to doubt that Hogan could have come to see him in the hospital if he wanted. Klink was trying to decide if he should admit to wishing for death to ease his loneliness or pretend he had people lined up to see him. But he couldn't think well enough to form even a partially coherent lie; he was mainly concerned with feeling Hogan wrapped around him. 

"Hogan, is this a dream?" There was a long moment of silence as the massaging hands moved down to Klink's neck. 

"Life is but a dream, Wili, so you can call me Rob." 

"In dreams you are Rob, but I can't imagine being Wili in this or any life." Klink could hear his normal level of despair creeping into his voice. Even as it embarrassed him, Klink wished Rob would fix it. 

"Wili, I don't think you're going to believe me, but what I am about to tell you is true. Even skilled people can get lonely." Klink's breath hitched at the words being whispered into his ear, but Rob kept talking. "I can talk people into doing almost anything, but the most seductive thing I ever heard came from you. You said that you saw my manipulations and still wanted me. Most people get close enough to see that part of me and leave, but you understand it's part of me. I've searched my whole life for that kind of acceptance, and I can't let you get away just because we are enemies." 

"Beautiful words, my dream." Wili sighed, and closed his eyes as he leaned into the strong torso behind him. Hands other than his own hugged Wilhelm for the first time in a long time and Wili smiled. "Your hands have warmed up." 

"So they have." Replied a soft voice and then Hogan began to move. Klink had just started cursing himself for a fool for disturbing his dream when he realized Rob was taking off his clothes. Wili could only stare as a broad chest emerged from the uniform. As he took off his socks and pants, Rob started speaking. "I've often laughed at the old fashioned nightgown you wear, with the pointed little hat, but I finally understand its appeal." 

Wili had to swallow a couple of times before he could speak. "What appeal?" 

Rob had his hands at the waistband of his underwear, so Wili's wide eyes almost missed the mischievous look on Rob's face. "Easy access." 

"Easy…" Wili was trying to ask what Rob was talking about accessing, but a naked, mostly hard Rob drained the blood from Wili's brain. 

A large hand shoved Wili's back onto the bed, while another pulled up the nightgown for access. Then Colonel Robert Hogan, enemy of the Fatherland, was kissing him and all was right with the universe. Rob stroked Wili's erection and ignored his own, which stopped Wili's brain from working. Nobody had ever been concerned with making Wili happy, not even during this intimate act. Rob trailed kisses down Wili's jaw line to do something exotic to his throat and Wile moaned his pleasure. He wanted this to last forever, but his luck held and put a thought into his brain. This wasn't sex, it was making love and Wili could only gasp as this knowledge put him over the edge. 

"I guess you like that." A husky voice murmured into Wili's throat and caused his penis to twitch hopefully. Wili looked down and confirmed Rob was physically interested in him. Wili's response was in a commanding voice that would have made the army proud if he had used it in other circumstances. 

"Lay on your back." 

Rob looked up at him in surprise, but grinned and did as he was told, for once. Wili turned perpendicular to Rob and positioned himself to taste the erection in front of him. Salty, but wonderfully responsive to the things Wili was doing with his tongue. As Wili slowly took more of the large cock in his mouth, Rob was too far gone to notice if Wili moistened his own fingers. 

When a wet finger slowly shoved its way into Rob, that he noticed and bucked wildly in response to. Wili's normally klutzy hands had long, graceful fingers and the second finger touched a spot in Rob that had him biting his own hand to keep from yelling. A sweet eternity of probing and sucking before Wili buried his aristocratic nose in Rob's pubic hair. Biting hard enough to draw blood, Rob found completion. 

Rob could only lie on the bed and pant for several minutes. Wili was perfectly content to lie on Rob and watch him breathe, trailing fingers across that broad chest. In the dim light from the fire, Wili wondered at the fading bruises Rob had, but was unwilling to ask about them. When Rob shivered, it seemed to bring him around. Pulling Wili with him, Rob arranged them under the blankets, facing each other, arms and legs entwined. With a soft kiss on Wili's forehead, Rob spoke before he could fall asleep. 

"I think, Wili, we've finally found your talent." 

"I guess you liked that." Wili allowed himself a smirk; it was really nice to be appreciated. 

"Never had better." Rob was mostly asleep, so Wili could accept the words as true. Wili watched Rob fall asleep, wonder, excitement and hope swirling in his mind and keeping him awake for a long time. With Hogan, the impossible was accomplished daily. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

When his alarm went off, Klink had been surprised to see he was alone. The scale of dried semen on his stomach glued his nightgown to his body and hurt to peel off. He was so angry at his dreams for getting his hopes up that he stomped about until roll call. He planned on using any excuse to order Hogan to the cooler, since the damn man was the cause of all his pain, but Hogan wasn't there. A startled Shultz had to tell him Hogan was in solitary and a confused Klink had wondered how his imagination knew about that. Dismissing the prisoners, Klink had retreated to his office and found his replacement hadn't submitted a single piece of paperwork the entire time he was gone. 

It took an hour of searching to find the report that sentenced Hogan to thirty days of solitary for an attempted escape. The sentence started four days after the Kommandant's meeting, but it took another twenty minutes to find the report on those four days. Another half hour passed before Klink could calm himself enough to call Shultz and have Hogan released from the cooler. From his window, Klink watched as excited prisoners ran to greet their leader and escort him to the barracks. Talking to the men that surrounded him, Hogan didn't look in Klink's direction. Klink stared after Hogan long after he was out of sight, trying to figure this out. 

How much of his memories, since that damn meeting, had actually happened? Had Hogan been too busy to look at him or had he gotten what he wanted and was no longer interested in Wili? Or was last night another dream, vivid and bright but gone when the sun came? How would Hogan have even gotten out of the cooler to see him, and if he could do that, why did he go back? Klink sighed and rested his forehead against the window. He was Wilhelm Klink, and Hogan could get him to do whatever he wanted. Hogan ran this camp and only stayed to annoy the Germans. If he could accept being Hogan's pet kraut, Klink wouldn't have to worry so much. 

Another sigh and Klink turned to sit at his desk, hiding behind the mounds of paper. The headache that Rob's fingers had taken away came back at the sight of that tedious work. Pulling a small glass bottle out of his drawer, he allowed himself two of the rationed aspirin. Putting the pills in his mouth he reached for his water glass, only to find it empty. The water pitcher was also empty and a bitter taste was expanding in his mouth as the pills dissolved. Desperate, he almost ran to the decanter to pour two fingers of schnapps. That got rid of the taste, but before he could put the glass down the office door burst open. Klink turned and almost dropped the glass at what he saw. 

"Not even after lunch and you are already drinking on the job!" 

"My water was empty and the pills…"

"Bah! I do not want to hear your feeble excuses! Just know this will go in my report." 

"What report, Major Hochstetter?" Klink set the glass down, knowing the Gestapo wasn't interested in the truth. 

"I will ask the questions here, Klink! The doctors would not let me interrogate you before, but now that you are on full duty, you will explain this to me." 

"Explain what?" Confused, Klink made his way over to his desk. The paperwork would make a nice buffer between him and Hochstetter's temper. If he was lucky, it might even absorb some of the noise the shouting Major made. 

"Your injury and miraculous rescue." 

"All that was in the doctor's report." 

"Bah! Cowering doctors who believe in mercy and compassion. You will tell me. How did you get injured?" 

Klink sighed and sat in his chair, hoping that answering the questions would get rid of the Major. 

"I was at the monthly Kommandant meeting. On the way back, I got lost and had a flat tire. There was no spare, so I took a flashlight and walked back to the main road. When I heard voices, I thought I was saved and turned to signal to them." Not exactly true, but Klink saw no need to tell the Gestapo he was looking around without considering it made him a target. "They shot at me, before asking questions, so I think they might have been Gestapo." Hochstetter stiffened at that remark and Klink wondered what possessed him to say it. "I lost consciousness, had some strange dreams and woke up in the hospital. I don't know how I hurt my forehead, it must have happened when I fell to the ground. I don't know what else I can tell you, Major." 

"What you can tell me, Kommondant, is what you did to Hogan." 

Klink really hated the way Hochstetter made his title so sarcastic and demeaning. 

"Why did he attempt to escape, successfully leave camp unnoticed only to let himself get captured when he drove you to the hospital in your staff car?" 

"Americans are soft and cannot even leave an enemy to die in the road." It was the official party line, so it should have served as an answer. But Hochstetter dismissed it with a wave of his hand. 

"You told the doctors you had a flat tire and no spare. So where did Hogan get a tire to fix your car? Why did he drive you to the hospital instead of letting your staff call for a doctor? He could have left, but instead stayed around to make sure you were seen to. When the loyal hospital staff called my men, he did not resist arrest. The man never says anything useful but never shuts up, so why did he come quietly?" 

"Major, I don't know." Klink tired not to shiver at the thought of Hogan being held by the Gestapo for four days. "I was unconscious and have never been able to understand the workings of Hogan's mind. What would you have me tell you?" 

"You will tell me when his thirty days of isolation are up. My men did not get sufficient answers out of him, so after the cooler freezes his brain, I will be taking custody of him, personally." 

Klink resisted the urge to plant his aching head in his hands. No good deed goes unpunished, it seemed. "Major, I released Hogan from solitary this morning." 

"You imbecile! I am going to break that man if I have to kill every prisoner in this stalag! Put him back this instant." 

Klink was still wondering why he was standing on his feet when he heard his voice shouting at Hochstetter. "That man is mine! The other prisoners are also under my protection from the likes of you! I cannot tell you why he saved my life, but the least I can do for him is to stop you from beating answers out of him. You decide you want any of my prisoners, you'd better have more authority than your condescending nature." 

Hochstetter was flabbergasted by Klink standing up to him. Klink was almost as shocked as Hochstetter. A hysterical part of Klink's mind wondered if he had absorbed some of Hogan's willpower when Rob came in his mouth last night. Or maybe, since he never considered himself worthy of fighting for, having someone worth protecting brought out a new side to Wilhelm Klink. 

"Keep the others, just give me Hogan!" Hochstetter was trying to get back to the wimpy Klink he could bend to his will, but a distraction opened the door. 

"Did somebody call my name?" Hogan entered the room, like he was oblivious to the tension and anger between the German officers. Hochstetter whirled on Hogan and shouted at him. 

"Yes! Klink is releasing you into my custody. I am taking you to headquarters, so we can find out all about you." 

"Hochstetter! I am not giving you custody." Klink knew to back off and let Hogan take care of the Major, but the new protective streak was strong. 

"Hey guys, I don't want you to spoil your friendship over little o' me." 

"Friendship?" Hochstetter spat out the word, like he thought it would poison him. "I want to shoot Klink between the eyes!" 

"Exactly." Hogan's reasonable tone was bliss after the emotional nature of the major. "Your enemies you would torture before killing." 

"And you are my enemy, Hogan!" 

"Apparently not, or else you would have killed me when I was your guest a few days ago." 

"You are an enemy to the Third Reich and I will see you dead if it's my last act in this life!" 

"I bet it looks something like this." Hogan cocked his head to the side, closed his eyes and let his tongue dangle out of his mouth. Klink swallowed a laugh, but couldn't hide the smile. Hochstetter was not amused and stalked over to poke Hogan in the chest. Hogan flinched, like Hochstetter had gotten him in one of his healing bruises and Klink felt a new desire to kill the major. Shot him between the eyes and see how he liked it. 

"You will tell me where you got a tire to fix the car. Then you will tell me why you saved Klink." 

"Well, it sounds silly when you say it out loud." 

"What?" 

Klink was glad Hochstetter had asked that question before he could. He trusted Hogan was smart enough to not mention whatever they might have been up to last night, though if it was a dream he wouldn't know what not to say. Klink sighed and sat back down in his chair, still confused. 

"I was afraid the Iron Colonel would come back from the dead to torment my men further." 

"Hogan!" Both Germans protested that statement, but Hogan only gave them an innocent shrug. 

"As for the tire, it was just lying on the side of the road, twenty feet behind the Colonel's car. I thought maybe it had fallen off of somebody else's car, like yours Major. Have you seen your spare lately?" 

Hochstetter looked between them for a long moment, before making a dismissive gesture with his hands. "Bah! I will get you both for this!" 

Klink watched Hochstetter storm out of the office, but still jerked when the volatile major slammed the door behind him. Hogan took the time to walk over to Klink's side of the desk and start riffling through papers. Reflexively, Klink slapped his hand away from the papers, only to realize how much he wanted to touch the rest of Rob. There was so much he wanted to say, but Wili wasn't even sure if last night had been real so he had to stick with reality. 

"Hogan, you didn't really steal Hochstetter's tire, did you?" 

"Why Colonel, do you think I'm capable of a thing like that?" Hogan said with a hurt expression, but he was grinning when he leaned down to kiss Wili. It was a short, silent kiss, as though Rob thought they might be overheard. Wili was still half hard when Rob pulled away. Hogan left the room, offering Klink a sloppy salute from the doorway before he closed it behind him. Klink could only speak to his empty office. 

"Hogan, I think you're capable of anything. Thank God." 


	2. Merrily, Merrily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klink's rescuer tell his side of the story and confronts a few unexpected feelings.

It was a simple mission, one that had been done hundreds of times before. Leave a prison camp in a hostile country during a time of war to meet a contact, so his information could be sent to London. Simple, but the contact was new and unknown, which made it dangerous. Hogan set Baker to man the radio, so Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau could serve as his backup.

Black clothes and a healthy smear of greasepaint made them almost invisible in the dark night, but Hogan would only risk his life to meet the contact face to face. With his men spread out and hiding in the woods behind him, Hogan had watched the contact for a few minutes. The small man was nervous, but that was normal in these situations. With a deep breath, Hogan emerged into the small clearing and gave the recognition code. 

“I’ve been playing with fire.” The man startled at his words and had to swallow a few times before he could reply. Hogan couldn’t help it; he rested his hand on his sidearm while he waited. 

“Until the fire played with me.” The man ran the words together, in an effort not to get shot, and his hands trembled as he pulled out an envelope. A sudden light highlighted the envelope and Hogan saw his contact’s eyes get very wide. German words told them to stay where they were, and Hogan just had to be contrary. 

“Run!” He shouted, hoping his men would understand the orders went for them as well. 

The contact dropped the envelope as he turned and ran; clearly he didn’t want to be caught with it. Hogan snatched it up before running back the way he had come. Crossing a cart track, Hogan ran a little further before ducking behind some thick bushes to look for pursuers. He wasn’t at all surprised as his men slowly gathered around him. No sounds or lights came after them, so Hogan whispered to his men. 

“I think we lost them.” 

No sooner than the words were out, a gunshot came from the distance. More shouting as a light searched the bushes, and shots responded to that source of light. Newkirk sighed, aware of what his words would mean. 

“I bet that’s our contact getting shot at.” 

“Yeah, he was nervous enough.” Hogan sighed before issuing instructions. “Let’s go check it out, stay silent and ready to run.” 

The noisy German soldiers were coming their way, but they had to try and help. In the middle of the cart track Hogan had passed earlier was a still form that he didn’t need Newkirk to identify for him. 

“Blimey, that’s not our contact, that’s Klink!” 

“Do you think he’s dead?” LeBeau was curious, but not particularly concerned. 

“Don’t know.” Considering the speed at which the soldiers were closing in on them, Hogan figured he had time for a quick look. “Lead the SS away, then get home. I’ll see to Klink.” 

“Why not leave the kraut for his buddies to find?” 

Hogan almost sighed at Newkirk’s words. No matter how many times he told them about Klink’s incompetence helping them, his men still wanted to get rid of him. 

“Taking bets on what his replacement will be like? Do what I said. And stay safe.” 

“Yes, sir.” All four of them replied softly before moving away. 

Ducking down and running to Klink, Hogan took a moment to look at the head wound. Klink was losing blood in the rain, but as best as Hogan could tell the bullet hadn’t damaged the skull. The krauts were closing in on the light, but slowly. Like they thought somebody stupid enough to wave a flashlight around was smart enough to lay a trap for them. Hogan picked up Klink and moved away from the light, leaving the krauts a mystery. 

Camp was close, less than two miles as the prisoners ran, but not close enough. He needed to stop the blood loss and warm up the body in his arms before he took Klink back to camp. Hogan paused before a large clearing, taking a good look around. Movement on the far side of the clearing caught his eye, so he backed up. Turning to the right he saw a distant flashlight. On the other side was an old barn that had fallen in on itself years ago. It didn’t look like a safe place to hide, so maybe they wouldn’t look in there. Not much of a hope, but all Hogan had at this moment. 

Hogan walked around the barn and found the back had a hole big enough for two people that actually looked dry. There wasn’t much clearance, but as long as they lay down it would be fine. Stuffing Klink in was hard work, as the man was so floppy. Hogan grinned at this proof that the man didn’t have a backbone as he pulled off the wet clothes. The uniform overcoat hadn’t done much of anything to keep Klink from getting wet, but the uniform tunic had. 

At least the rain had cleaned the head wound, so all Hogan had to do was bandage it with Klink’s shirt. Hogan used the handkerchief to wipe the greasepaint off his face, so he wouldn’t have to explain it to Klink when he woke up. Klink was very cold under Hogan’s hands, so Hogan took off his black turtleneck and snuggled up to Klink. The thought that it didn’t feel as weird as it should have confused Hogan. He dismissed it as he tried to wake Klink. People with head wounds shouldn’t sleep, until a doctor said it was fine. His minimalist medical training hadn’t wanted to go any further into head wounds than that; there were some things you couldn’t repair in a combat zone. 

Gently calling to Klink while shaking him didn’t seem to be working, so Hogan switched to issuing orders. “Come on, Klink! Open your eyes.” 

This seemed to work, as a bemused looking Klink responded. Hogan was relieved that Klink could wake up and joked down at him. “Way to follow orders, Colonel Klink! You have a head wound and need to stay awake. Talk to me, tell me what you’re doing out here.” 

“Long meeting, dark, tired, lost, flat tire, wet. In dreams, I don’t usually have to explain.” 

“Dreams?” Hogan considered that if Klink thought this was all a dream it would be a lot easier to explain what was going on. “Oh, yes, this is defiantly a dream. I’m safely sleeping the night away in my bunk. But talk to me anyway.” 

“Dream. I’m no longer wet or cold, so I’m probably freezing to death.” 

Hogan took a moment to explain what was going on, in this dream, but couldn’t help ending on a joke. “The bullet wound is deep but your thick skull saved your life.” 

“Hey! In my dreams people are supposed to care about me.” Klink’s voice lost the dazed quality so he could protest Hogan’s jokes. 

Hogan responded by feeling bad for kicking a man while he was down, even if it was Klink. “I care, Klink, in my own special way. Now talk to me.” 

“People in dreams always know all the answers.” 

“But you don’t, and dreams help you figure them out. So talk to me about your deepest problems.” 

“Funny. What problems could I possibly have?” 

Hogan had to stop the giddy laughter that came after Klink’s words with a hand over Klink’s mouth; he really did think the patrols were still out there. When the laughter died away, Hogan took his hand away and was startled by what Klink said next. 

“Hogan, I had all my problems trapped in a corner of my mind, where I didn’t have to deal with them. I could pretend to be someone liked, normal or useful. Then I met you and my problems multiplied. So much of my effort is directed toward not talking to you that I can’t even do it in dreams, so leave me alone.” 

Hogan was confused. He knew he was the cause of most of Klink’s problems, at least the ones the man didn’t bring on himself by avoiding reality, but why would Klink want to talk to him about them? “Fine, nothing too personal then. How about politics? Why don’t you tell me why you never joined the Nazi party?” 

“Hogan!” Klink shook his head until the pain stopped him. 

Hogan hadn’t thought it was that was a personal question; it was just something to keep Klink awake. After that reaction, though, Hogan wanted to know, especially if those reasons might interfere with his mission. 

“I’m stupid, I know. I can only dream of being good at something, anything. But not even I am stupid enough to think I could be open about myself. It’s always been very clear what is done with the likes of me, and that was before the Nazi party. My ‘beloved’ Fuehrer would imprison, torture, shame, and kill me if he knew what I was.” 

Klink wasn’t sounding at all like himself, there was sorrow in his self depreciating words. Normally he told everybody how good he was at everything, even when they had proof it wasn’t true. What was he admitting to here that would have him killed? “You have Jewish blood? I’ve heard those camps are nothing like the propaganda films, but few things ever are as the films show.” 

“It is not just the Jews we must hate now. The American expression I heard, stuck with me. Gypsies, queers and David’s stars.” A soft giggle distracted Klink for a moment before he continued. Hogan was still digesting his words, pretty sure Klink wasn’t admitting to being a Gypsy. “If head wounds make me have dreams like this, maybe I should get shot more often.” 

“What, a talking dream?” 

“Usually you know everything, just like you do in real life. You come to me and take what you want and I let you. Most all of my dreams are variations of that, and my nightmares are when you mock me or turn from me in disgust.” 

“Did you hear that? Footsteps in the rain?” Hogan turned to the noises he heard over Klink’s soft words, glad for the distraction. He shouldn’t know all this about a man he had to use to win a war. Hogan knew himself, knew he would take advantage of this if it was for the good of his country, even as he hated himself for making it so personal. 

“No, I hear only my dream asking me to explain the facts of life to him.” 

Hogan hadn’t heard more noises but he planned on looking for a while longer. He thought that if he didn’t look at Klink, he could let this go, before he used Klink’s desires against him. Surprisingly strong hands pulled Hogan’s face to about two inches away from Klink’s. 

“For this one dream, I have found something I know more about than you.” Klink grinned at Hogan for a long moment before bringing their lips together. 

Hogan was having trouble processing the fact that Klink was a homosexual and the idea that he was the object of Klink’s desires took even longer to adjust to. 

Klink broke away to whisper in Hogan’s ear, and Hogan found himself at a loss for words. 

“Please Hogan. Kiss me and I swear to believe everything you say, no matter how outrageous. Touch me and I will feed your men caviar and champagne. Let this dream continue, because here my noble family isn’t dirt poor and I can furnish our bedroom with luxury so we never have to leave it.” 

Hogan fought back a shiver as he laid Klink back on the ground. Falling back on command mode, Hogan whispered instructions to Klink. “Stay with me, Klink. Colonel, open your eyes.” 

“We are of equal rank, so you can’t order me to face my nightmares.” The petulant voice almost sounded like the old Klink, but Hogan’s instincts told him they weren’t alone. 

“You need to stay awake, but there’s somebody out there. We’re not safe.” 

“I’ve never been safe, that’s why I’m scared all the time.” Klink opened his eyes and showed Hogan an anger that matched his voice. Real anger, that made what Klink normally showed look like annoyance or playacting. “The kids teased and called me names, but they would have gotten really cruel if they knew the truth. When I understood how perverted I was, I knew I’d never find love. Sex was the best I could hope for and I’ve only ever had sex with one guy. During the Great War, my roommate in the barracks would make me do things to him. If he had known how much I enjoyed what he made me do, he would have turned me in. I was resigned to a life alone, lying about who I was and feigning interest in girls. I didn’t want to be Kommandant, but I thought at least I wouldn’t be the only one not having sex. My biggest challenge was going to be limiting the fantasies I had about the men in camp, at least that’s what I thought.” 

Soft hands that held paperwork more often than guns caressed Hogan’s face, which seemed to calm the injured man. His voice was full of regret when he spoke again. “But the devil sent an angel to tempt me, and I gave in to that temptation. My biggest challenge has been keeping the Gestapo away from you. I don’t know all the things you get up to, but I know they would kill you if they knew what I know. A docile, subservient Colonel Hogan would have been handsome, but unremarkable. If you had accepted the role of a prisoner to his captor, I would have been fine. But you challenged my betters, talked circles around me, stole my schnapps, cigars, and heart. Love between men is impossible, but you make the impossible work for you all the time.” 

“Klink, um, Wilhelm. You’re injured, so you need to stay positive.” Hogan knew he needed to bring this conversation back to a happy place, where Klink wouldn’t be so embarrassed at seeing Hogan that he put in for a transfer. It was important that Klink stayed in command, but Hogan was seriously distracted by Klink’s words. Duty was losing importance, because Klink sounded so lost and alone that Hogan found he couldn’t help but respond to it. “Why don’t you tell me about your happiest memory?” 

“Nope, still a nightmare.” Klink laughed a little while Hogan tried to understand when Klink had decided this was a nightmare instead of a dream. “My happiest memory, is when we were in London. I wanted to tell London High Command the truth and beg for asylum. Had they granted me asylum, you would have returned to the fight, or America, but you would have left me. I hate this war, but I often wish for it to continue simply because this is the only time I will get to spend with you.” 

Hogan looked down at Klink, wondering at how lonely Klink must be that London was his favorite memory. He knew he should say something, even if it was to just tell Klink this was a dream. “Wilhelm, I…” 

A loud thump a few feet away was followed by a muffled groan and stopped Hogan’s words. Hogan was grinning at the distraction, hoping he knew who it was just from the sound of a body falling. 

“Could you at least learn to fall quieter, Andrew?” 

Leaving Klink, Hogan watched Newkirk help Carter to his feet. 

“Guys, where are the patrols?” Hogan slipped up to his men and they startled, but grinned at him. 

“We lost ‘em, Sir, and split up to find you. The others will head home in twenty minutes if they don’t find you.” 

“I give orders for a reason.” Hogan had actually expected they would look for him, but couldn’t let Newkirk know that. Newkirk enjoyed being a man of mystery too much to let him know he was predictable in his concern for the team. The rain was softer, but they still needed to get Klink medical attention. Except Klink would never live it down if the guys heard anything he had said tonight. “Your punishment for not following my orders is you get to help carry Klink back to camp. Wilson will decide if he needs a doctor or hospital. Don’t listen to Klink, he’s delusional and making even less sense than normal.” 

A loud thud caused the barn to shake and Hogan got back to Klink as quick as he could. The barn stabilized after a minute, so Hogan could pull out the now unconscious Klink. The man had probably tried to sit up and knocked himself out; it seemed a very Klink-like thing to do. Newkirk rolled his eyes, before sliding in to retrieve the wet clothing. They redressed Klink and got back to camp as quickly as they could. Hogan considered as they moved and by the time they got to the tree stump he had decided to risk taking Klink in. If he showed signs of returning to consciousness, they could blindfold him. Once in the tunnels, Wilson could look him over and decide on what he needed. 

Klink was very pale in the light of the tunnel, on the cot nearest the emergency exit. Kinch and LeBeau were waiting on them with the location of Klink’s car. Twenty feet from the main road, it was pointed into the side path with a flat tire and no spare. Only Klink could get himself lost and injured less than two miles from his own camp. Hogan couldn’t understand why he was so anxious as he waited for Wilson’s report, but he kept himself from thinking about what Klink had said by changing into his uniform. Finally, a grim faced Wilson came to speak to Hogan as he was wiping the rest of the greasepaint off. 

“He could probably do with a blood transfusion, since head wounds bleed so much, but it’s the knot on his forehead that worries me. I’d like to get an x-ray, make sure his brain isn’t swelling, but we don’t have that kind of equipment in camp.” 

“Not even for the guards?” 

“No sir, he’d have to go to the hospital in town.” 

“Ok, thank you Wilson.” Hogan nodded at the medic and wandered into the radio room. His main crew was gathered here, telling Baker what they had been up to with only slight exaggerations. “Guys, we’ve got to save Klink’s neck, again. Kinch, Newkirk, I need a spare tire at Klink’s car. Carter, I need a distraction on the far side of camp from the motor pool, but I think smoke bombs will do. LeBeau, make sure the guards see only what they need to see, and nobody gets shot. Baker, I need you and Wilson to help me get Klink back to the surface before you send this information to London.” 

“Yes, sir.” Six voices called out to him as Hogan turned back to where Wilson waited with Klink. 

He could have told them specific instructions on how to steal a tire or herd the guards, but they knew their jobs and he trusted them. Carter needed a firm hand, simply because his idea of a distraction might take out the whole camp. Walking toward Klink while thinking about Carter, put a strange thought in Hogan’s mind. Had Klink ever been as young and enthusiastic as Carter, or had his ineptitude depressed him his entire life? Hogan had to shove the thought away so he could focus on moving Klink out of the emergency entrance. 

Hogan carried Klink towards his car, only to find Kinch and Newkirk had just finished changing the tires. They settled Klink in the back seat and nodded at Hogan before returning to camp, where the guards were putting out the last of Carter’s smoke bombs. A few more minutes and Stalag 13 would be back in its nightly stupor. Without Klink there to order it, there would be no emergency roll call and nobody would notice Hogan was gone. He could drop Klink off at the hospital and be back before the doctors even noticed their patient had a driver. 

Except, when Hogan pulled in front of the hospital, nobody came out to see what he wanted. He couldn’t toss Klink on the curb and hope they found him, and it would help his recovery if the doctors knew what had happened. Shutting off the engine, Hogan got out and pulled Klink into his arms. Setting his shoulders, Hogan whispered to Klink before they entered the building. 

“They’re doctors, so they’re not going to shoot me on sight. Though getting out before they call the Gestapo would be a good idea.” 

Hogan entered the hospital, calling for assistance. He told the doctors he had found Klink in the woods, bleeding from the head. He tried to stop the bleeding, only to notice the large lump on his forehead and now he was worried about brain damage. They gave him suspicious looks and told him to stay in the waiting room. Hogan promised he would and made a hasty exit. It wasn’t hasty enough, because four Gestapo minions were coming toward him with weapons at the ready. Unarmed, Hogan had thrown his hands up in surrender and gone quietly. 

During the ride to Gestapo headquarters, Hogan concocted his story from actual happenings at Stalag 13 and rehearsed it in his mind so he would know it when they asked in less than pleasant ways. The messenger had come in a car today, instead of his usual motorcycle because of mechanical problems. So Hogan had taken the chance and gotten into the trunk and hopped out at the first stop the messenger made outside camp. 

Getting lost in the woods, Hogan had stumbled over the injured Klink and thought bringing him to the hospital would convince the Luftwaffe to forgive his impromptu escape attempt. Klink would have bought it, but the Gestapo was far more suspicious, and if Major Hochstetter was there Hogan doubted he’d get out alive. Hogan had to push away a new curiosity as to why Klink would have believed him. Knowing whether Klink believed him out of fear or more romantic notions wouldn’t help with the Gestapo. 

Time lost meaning as shifts of agents worked him over, but Hochstetter wasn’t one of them. So Hogan stuck to his story and hoped he would get out of here. He needed to tell London about the new things the Gestapo was doing with electricity. Biting his cheek kept Hogan from telling the one agent that he needed a firmer wrist to do any damage with his whip. One weird agent climbed a ladder to drop heavy things on Hogan’s torso. The impact hurt, but not enough to make Hogan talk as the pain was over too soon. Hochstetter needed to train his men better in torture, but Hogan wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

From the lack of food and water, Hogan suspected they planned on killing him eventually. It was a pleasant surprise when he was dragged to a truck instead. Killing him in the building and removing his body under the cover of darkness would have been more efficient and the Nazis were all about efficiency. When they dragged him out of the truck, he was too happy to see Stalag 13 to worry about the difficulty he was having walking. They dropped him in the floor of Klink’s office and Hogan watched the exchange of paperwork. 

The Gestapo was leaving him with some Luftwaffe major he didn’t recognize, but this was defiantly Klink’s office. Klink must have been pretty bad off to still be in the hospital, Hogan thought, then realized he didn’t know how long he had been with the Gestapo. Fighting his way back to his feet was really hard, considering Hogan didn’t think anything was broken, but he was in a sitting position when two guards entered the office. The major pointed dramatically at Hogan on the floor, like there was anybody else he could be referring to. 

“Thirty days in the cooler for attempted escape.” 

The guards offered salutes before trying to pick Hogan up. He didn’t help; he was too busy wondering where Shultz was in all this. At least Shultz could be counted on to tell his men he was back. Thinking of his men gave Hogan the strength to at least try and walk as they hauled him to the cooler, so anyone who saw them wouldn’t think the Gestapo had won. Out of the Major’s eyesight, the guards slowed down to let Hogan walk easier. When they eased him onto the hard bed in solitary, Hogan got a chance to grin at them, recognizing them at last. 

“Karl, Heinz, where’s Shultz?” 

“The Major caught him sleeping on duty and assigned him to patrol the woods.” 

“Where’s Klink?” 

“Still in the hospital, unconscious last we heard. Why did you save him?” 

“That’s what the Gestapo wanted to know. If I’d know it would piss them off so much, I would have done it a lot sooner.” Karl snorted a laugh, but Heinz only gaped at Hogan. 

“Colonel Hogan, you should be more careful! The Gestapo has ears everywhere.” 

“Even here?” Now Karl and Heinz turned suspicious eyes on each other and Hogan had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “Kidding guys, I don’t think either of you are Gestapo. But you should get back to your posts before the Major notices you’re gone.” 

“Yes, sir.” Snappy salutes followed their words, before they turned to leave the cooler. 

As the door locked behind them, Hogan wondered at that. Klink could have these men transferred to a fighting post where they were far more likely to be killed, and they were still more respectful to Hogan. They weren’t even trained to accept the prisoner’s strange activities like Shultz, they just accepted Hogan as a leader. It was something Hogan had known all his life, but Klink would never know. Hogan really wanted to pace, warm up and get these thoughts out of his head, but he didn’t think his legs could support him. 

Sighing heavily, Hogan heard the signal tapped on the wall. Giving the all clear, he grinned as LeBeau emerged from the tunnel. Newkirk handed LeBeau a tray and watched as the Frenchman served Hogan. The thick broth and soft bread were all Hogan’s stomach could handle after days without food. He ate slowly and relished it as LeBeau told him of what had been happening while he was gone. 

LeBeau kept up a steady stream of chatter, even after all the food was gone. Newkirk had to return and interrupt to point out that they had ten minutes until evening roll call. After promising an excellent breakfast, LeBeau had closed the hidden entrance behind him. Stretching out and attempting to get warm and comfortable enough to sleep, Hogan found strange dreams to occupy himself. 

It started as a memory, the summer when he was ten years old when he had run across a field with screaming behind him. He had hated being called Robbie even then but everybody in his hometown still called him that. Paul was a neighbor’s kid, smart, shy and awkward as he turned fourteen. The local bullies loved to pick on him but never where adults could see. They had no such problems being bullies in front of Robbie, however, and he found he didn’t like them. Four of them, all sixteen or older, so Robbie knew he couldn’t fight them physically. They had managed to get invitations to Paul’s birthday party by sucking up to his parents and Robbie saw his chance. 

Innocent looks and carefully chosen words and Robbie talked all four of them into taking the shortcut to Paul’s party. The whole county knew to avoid Farmer Kent’s bull but they had followed Robbie over that fence anyway. He was small and quick, less of a target for the enraged bull. He had made it to Paul’s party just a few minutes late, while the four of them had made their way to the hospital. When they got out, Paul was forgotten as they sought revenge on Robbie. By the time Robbie had turned fourteen, he could take all four of them in a straight fight and Paul had a full scholarship to college. 

At his high school graduation party, Paul had taken Robbie aside. He was still shy and had blushed heavily as he thanked Robbie for getting the bullies off his back. Admitted he didn’t think he would have gotten such good grades if he still had to worry about getting beaten up all the time. Robbie had patted him on the shoulder, and told him to use his brains to make the world a better place. They had gone back to the party, but now when they turned Klink was standing there. He was in full uniform and without the monocle he looked almost military as he studied the people before him. 

“Interesting memory, Colonel Hogan.” The rest of the party froze as Klink circled Hogan. “You are proud of this incident, even though those bullies could have been killed. Or did you consider bullies being killed by a bull a fitting punishment?” 

“I was a kid, I didn’t know about death.” 

“You know about death now, yet you still risk the lives of your men. You are prisoners and if you accepted that you would be safe.” 

“It’s war, nobody’s safe.” 

“Much like your friend Paul, some people aren’t even safe during peacetime. Do you still hope to protect such people?” 

“If I can. I like to help.” 

“A wise answer, Rob.” Klink turned to look at Paul and then walked behind him. Looking over Paul’s shoulder, the military bearing was gone as Wilhelm looked at Hogan. “I wish someone found me worth protecting.” 

Hogan reached to comfort Klink and the Kommandant exploded, coating the graduation party with blood. Jerking awake, Hogan considered the inside of the cooler as he tried to figure out what that had been about. He ran it over in his mind to keep the details from fading away as dreams tended to do. 

When the guards woke him up by sliding bread and water into the room, Hogan realized he had fallen asleep at some point and the dream was now beyond his grasp. Eating the bread was a warm up for the breakfast LeBeau had promised after morning roll call, but it wasn’t interesting enough to keep his mind busy. 

So Klink desired him, happened all the time and Hogan was willing to use it to his advantage. Or maybe he wasn’t, at least not against Klink. He didn’t need to; for one thing, he could get Klink to do most anything without seducing him. Unless it was his manipulations that were seducing Klink, because it almost sounded like Klink _You come to me and take what you want and I let you knew_ he was being used! Like Klink, the biggest idiot in the third Reich, _kiss me and I swear to believe everything you say, no matter how outrageous_ , wanted to be whatever Hogan needed him to be. And yes, Hogan used Klink as a shield between him and the more competent members of the German army, _I don’t know all the things you get up to, but I know they would kill you if they knew what I know_ , but for cowardly Klink to accept that role? It wasn’t like him at all, to put somebody else above his own interests, was it? Wounded Klink had been open, honest, and trusting in a way that was death in Hitler’s Germany, but it still had to be an act. A lie to get Hogan to help him to a hospital, except that would mean that Klink was hiding a devious mind. Klink was many things, and even though he tried to be, he wasn’t devious or cruel. Mostly, Klink was scared, afraid of what he was and what would happen to him if that knowledge got out. What if he really was hiding _I was resigned to a life alone, lying about who I was_ who he was because of that fear? Not just the homosexual bit, but the nice guy who had to be reminded that he was in charge. A guy, who, like Hogan, retreated behind the command structure when things got personal. A sad man, convinced _love between men is impossible_ he would be alone for his entire life, a feeling emphasized by people who didn’t have to pay attention to the rules. People, like Robert Hogan, who _you make the impossible work for you all the time_ forced reality to do their bidding. LeBeau climbed through the entrance and flipped his scarf over his shoulder before taking the food tray from Newkirk. Hogan was annoyed at the interruption to his thoughts and sounded more than a little snappish when he spoke. 

“LeBeau, you didn’t wait for the all clear.” 

“Sorry, mon colonel, but we signaled five times without getting any sort of response.” LeBeau set the tray next to Hogan and filled him in on camp gossip while he ate. 

Hogan had a hard time paying attention, as his thoughts wanted to return to Klink for some reason. He frowned at his thoughts and felt LeBeau grip his arm. 

“Are you sure you don’t need to see Wilson? I know you said you didn’t but you seem distracted.” 

“While you go out to work on the road, I get to luxuriate in my private room. What more could I possible want?” 

“Funny, mon colonel, but you are not acting right.” 

“Isolation gives you strange dreams, don’t worry about me. I’ll sleep the day away and be fine.” Hogan grinned at LeBeau to enforce his words and LeBeau slowly accepted them. “Just let me know if Hochstetter or Klink turn up.” 

“Yes, sir.” LeBeau grinned and collected the tray. “We shall also continue to serve you fabulous meals without any hopes of receiving thanks.” 

Hogan grinned at LeBeau’s retreating back. “Thanks, Louis, it was the best omelet I’ve had this entire war.” 

The grin disappeared as the tunnel entrance closed and Hogan’s thoughts returned to the situation with Klink. Maybe, what was weighing on his mind wasn’t the fact that Klink desired him; maybe it was his reaction that confused him. Hogan was a saboteur, and spy. Being sneaky and in control were the keys to surviving this job. So why had Klink’s confession robbed him of words? Why had he tried to avoid hearing the information that could be so useful to his mission? He should have been thinking of ways to use it. Klink was only a tool that Hogan used to win, and Hogan didn’t care about the feelings of a wrench! 

But, Klink was human and he did care about people. Since ten year old Robbie noticed injustice in the world, he had cared. Klink was everything Hogan wasn’t, and Klink needed Hogan to be complete. Hogan didn’t need Klink. Did not need somebody following him around, telling him how wonderful he was. Except Klink wasn’t doing that. He was trying to protect Hogan and put Hogan’s needs before his own. That wasn’t fleeting lust, it was emotions and caring and crap Hogan tended to avoid like the plague. He could fake it, and take what he wanted, but he was tired of faking. He wanted to be a nice guy, instead of a liar and scoundrel, but he couldn’t get away from his need to be in control. Could Klink actually be the one person in the universe who saw Hogan as he was and still wanted him? 

Hogan’s legs wobbled but held after his food and rest, so he started pacing. He was absolutely not getting exited, and there was no way in hell he was interested in Klink. Guys had sex all the time, stress relief and companionship, that wasn’t a big deal. But to chose to spend your life with a fawning, inept, balding weasel and his monocle? If he was going to get all emotional, shouldn’t it be for one of his guys? 

Newkirk’s hands were extremely skilled, LeBeau’s caring nature was seductive in its own way and Carter’s unbridled enthusiasm would liven up an evening. And Kinch? On those rare occasions when he got drunk enough to get rid of his inhibitions, his large hands and mustache took on a supernatural quality in the dark tunnels. 

Hogan sat back on the bunk and put his elbows on his knees so he could bury his face in his hands. What made Klink different than the men Hogan worked with, lived with and respected? Klink saw him, not the uniform. Klink needed him, where the guys would have wonderful lives after peacetime pulled them apart. Klink desired him for more than sexual gratification. Klink loved him, even as he suspected Hogan would be the death of him someday. That was a seductive combination, and maybe Hogan _I care, Klink, in my own special way_ kept Klink around for more than his unwitting help on missions. Flopping down on the bed, Hogan threw an arm over his eyes. Thirty days in the cooler would be enough to convince himself he wasn’t actually interested in Klink. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Six days alone in the cooler and Hogan was still trying to find a way to lie on the bed that wouldn’t make him hurt. It was about an hour after evening roll call when Newkirk popped his head into the tunnel exit. 

“Evenin’ govn’r. Karl just brought back Klink’s staff car. For some strange reason, he brought Klink back with it.” Newkirk shrugged his confusion. “No accountin’ for taste, I suppose.” 

“Newkirk, why do you hate Klink so much? Is it just because he’s German or is it his general incompetence?” Hogan wasn’t sure who was surprised more at his question, him or Newkirk. 

Newkirk had to think about it for a long moment before answering, so he pulled out a cigarette. “I don’t hate him, really. It’s just that he’s such an easy target, I find myself aiming for him. He creates so much crap; I don’t even feel like a bully when I take him down a peg. I think if he faced reality a little more, he might almost be a decent guy.” 

“What if not facing reality is the only thing keeping him alive?” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Something he said before he knocked himself out has been bothering me. Maybe Klink knows himself more than we give him credit for. Maybe the only hope he has of being happy is to ignore reality. What do you think of that?” 

“I think that if I was Klink,” Newkirk took in and let out a long drag before continuing, “I’d be sure my one chance of happiness would be lost. I don’t think I’d have the courage to reach for it, and consider death a reasonable alternative. But there’s no telling what goes through Klink’s mind.” 

“So his dreams are the only thing keeping him alive?” 

“I suppose, why?” 

If he killed Klink’s dreams, for whatever reason, no matter how noble in his mind, he might as well put a bullet in the man’s head. It would be kinder, anyway. Hogan heard Klink’s voice as he confessed in the shelter of the barn. So many words and almost as many emotions, and all of it true. Newkirk’s voice brought Hogan back to the cooler. 

“Sir? Do you need something?” 

“Just don’t lock the entrance behind you. Goodnight Newkirk.” 

“Goodnight, Sir.” 

Hogan wasn’t even sure of why he had given that command, until he got up a half hour later and entered the tunnel. Sliding the stove in the living room of Klink’s quarters out of his way, Hogan shivered in the sudden warmth. He had gotten used to the chill of the cooler, and now felt cold when faced with warmth. With his hands deep in his pockets, Hogan slipped quietly toward the bedroom. Klink was staring at a glass of schnapps in his hand, like he was considering drowning himself in it. His need was so great, he was so lost and alone that Hogan had to do something to make it right. It was pity, and only pity, Hogan told himself as he walked over and took the schnapps to steady himself. 

“That’ll help me warm up, thanks.” Hogan kicked his shoes off as he sat next to Klink, who finally found his words. 

“Hogan! Get back to your barracks this minute!” 

“Normally I would, you know how I love following orders. But everybody would get in trouble if I was in my bunk come morning. How’s your head?” 

“The headache won’t go away, but the doctors think I’m faking.” Klink reached up to rub at his forehead, and Hogan wondered what Klink’s skin felt like. “Wait! Why would there be trouble if you were in your bunk?” 

Hogan decided to touch the wounded forehead; perhaps a massage to see if he could desire Klink. Even horny and blind, Hogan didn’t think he could have pity sex with someone he hated. Moving to surround the lanky man with his body, Hogan had to fight back a startled yelp when Klink’s hands landed on his thighs. Klink’s eyes were impossibly wide and it was rather disconcerting, so Hogan turned his face away. 

“Hogan, your hands are like ice!” 

“Yeah, the cold might help your headache. If not, they’ll warm up shortly. I didn’t have my gloves on me when your replacement sent me to the cooler.” 

“Why did he send you to the cooler?” Klink’s voice was dreamy, as if he wasn’t concerned with his words. He also didn’t sound like he knew Hogan had found him and taken him to the hospital. So whatever Klink did tonight wasn’t a thank you. Or Hogan could leave now, and let this just be one of Klink’s dreams, before things got any further. 

“Because he could. That’s why I didn’t visit you in the hospital, so I hope you weren’t disappointed.” Hogan blinked at his words; that wasn’t him making excuses and leaving. 

“Hogan, is this a dream?” 

It took Hogan a minute to answer, because he was no longer sure. Klink’s confession had poked a hole in Hogan’s own carefully constructed dam of emotions and wants. Now he was fighting a current of emotions he couldn’t even name. Rowing, gently down the stream, without a boat. 

“Life is but a dream, Wili, so you can call me Rob.” Get names and rank out of the picture, and he might see what was going on, Hogan thought. 

“In dreams you are Rob, but I can’t imagine being Wili in this or any life.” The sorrow in Klink’s voice was too much to handle. 

A new desire to protect Wili, even from himself overwhelmed Hogan. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he had to make that pain go away. 

“Wili, I don’t think you’re going to believe me, but what I am about to tell you is true. Even skilled people can get lonely.” Klink’s breath hitched and Rob knew he was on the right track. “I can talk people into doing almost anything, but the most seductive thing I ever heard came from you. You said that you saw my manipulations and still wanted me. Most people get close enough to see that part of me and leave, but you understand it’s part of me. I’ve searched my whole life for that kind of acceptance, and I can’t let you get away just because we are enemies.” 

“Beautiful words, my dream.” With a sigh, Wili was leaning back and Hogan hugged him to his chest. Klink could only accept this as a dream, but Rob thought he knew a few tricks that might make it a memorable dream. “Your hands have warmed up.” 

“So they have.” Making his way to his feet, Hogan started taking off his clothes. He couldn’t have pity sex, but he could have sex with somebody he actually cared for. Wili was staring at him with surprise, desire, and fear; strangely afraid of this dream. The real Hogan would insult him, so Rob went with that, and threw in a little innuendo. “I’ve often laughed at the old fashioned nightgown you wear, with the pointed little hat, but I finally understand its appeal.” 

Wili had to swallow a couple of times before he could speak. “What appeal?” 

“Easy access.” 

“Easy…” The confused Klink Hogan knew was trying to come out, but desire was distracting them both. 

Pushing Wili’s back onto the bed, Rob let his other hand see if Wili was really interested. He was very interested and still couldn’t believe this was happening. It was strange how kissing could be more personal than what his hand was doing to Wili, but Rob wanted this to be personal. Kissing Wili was unexpectedly nice, warm and responsive as he made tiny moans of appreciation. Wili seemed afraid to touch Rob, his hands grasping at the air between them. Rob moved his lips down to Wili’s throat and moved his shoulders into Wili’s grasp. Tentatively, Wili’s hands started stroking Rob, until they grabbed the muscles. Wili came with a loud gasp, apparently too far gone to even give voice to his joy. 

“I guess you like that.” Rob couldn’t help being proud of making Wili so happy with just a hand job, but he really hoped Wili wasn’t as bad at sex as he was at everything else. A man had to have some standards if there was any hope for whatever this turned out to be. 

“Lay on your back.” 

Rob had to look at Wili, to make sure that forceful command issued from him. Rob rolled off his side and onto his back, curious as to what Wili had in mind. The tongue that licked the head of Rob’s penis wasn’t hesitant or afraid. It was skilled and made Rob squirm as it worked its way down, bringing the moist warmth of a mouth with it. 

Occasionally, there was hardness in that mouth, like Wili’s hands were getting in the way of the mouth, but Rob was too close to losing his mind to figure out the technical details. When the wet, slender object entered his asshole, Rob’s remaining control was on keeping his voice quiet. It would be so bad to be caught like this, by anybody, but a second finger had Rob biting his own hand. Few people had been up there, so Wili shouldn’t know the exact spot to rub to kill Rob’s brain cells. Then there was hardness in Rob’s pubic hair and contracting muscles on his penis and the taste of copper in his mouth as he came. 

Trying to regain his breath, Rob felt Wili sprawl across him. The gentle touch of Wili’s fingers was nice, and completely different than the last hands that had touched Rob. The Gestapo had inflicted as much pain as they could and they only thought him an escapee. What would they do to tiny, fragile remains of Wili’s hope? Why had the world been so cruel to a man who could be so kind given half a chance? How long would Wili have held on to life if war hadn’t brought them together? The image of Wili in a lonely grave for suicides caused Rob to shiver. He was supposed to be making Wili’s dreams come true, not imagining the worst case scenarios. Getting under the covers with Wili felt so right, Rob found sleep beckoning to him. He had to tell Wili something that he could hold on to, but he wasn’t ready for an emotional outburst. 

“I think, Wili, we’ve finally found your talent.” 

“I guess you liked that.” Wili said. 

Wili looked so happy at that complement, that Rob wanted to say something to make it even better. Sleep was pulling at him, telling Rob how long it had been since he had a decent night’s sleep in a warm, soft bed with a lover. If he’d been awake, Rob would have been surprised at the truthful words that come out of his mouth. 

“Never had better.” 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Rob’s internal alarm clock told him it was time to get up and check for messages from London before roll call. He didn’t want to get up, as he was so warm and comfortable for some reason. A glance at the body in his arms woke Hogan better than a gallon of coffee. He slid out, terrified of waking Klink and gathered his clothes. A quick clean up in the bathroom and he was back in the cooler before he could think about what he had done. He went over there to make Klink feel better, maybe some pity sex. He absolutely, certainly did not go over there to prove to himself that he was actually, in fact, in love with Klink! Hogan groaned and let his head thunk into the cement wall behind him. 

Not only was he in love with Wilhelm Klink, he now lusted after that balding little fink! Who knew that man’s one talent was in the bedroom? All the words Rob had spoken to Wili last night came from the soul and were far truer than the things Hogan had told himself in the cooler. Well, he was a soldier and an honorable man, so there was no way he could let this continue. Klink was an enemy and Hogan had a job to do. 

After the war, things might be different. If Germany won, they would both be castrated and killed, not necessarily in that order. If the Allies won, an ocean would lie between them. Damn! That meant Klink had been right, this war was all the time they had. No, Hogan’s only option was to make sure Klink thought it had been a dream. Hogan could take a disappointed libido and broken heart; he doubted Klink could. Wrapping the blanket around him, Hogan tried to force a happy look on his face as he waited for his two breakfasts. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

His release from the cooler caused Hogan to worry, hoping Klink didn’t let him out because of last night. Hogan made sure not to look at Klink’s office as he passed, hoping that would make Klink aware that they were still enemies. Time and distance would convince Klink he had dreamed it; that was Hogan’s plan anyway. It would have worked, but Carter bounced into Hogan’s office. 

“Gestapo car in the compound.” Hogan grabbed his cap, and they had headed to the door so Newkirk could add from his post in the doorway. 

“Hochstetter, going to see Klink.” 

Throwing up his hands, Hogan had returned to his office where Kinch was already setting up the coffee pot. They listened as Hochstetter interrogated Klink about why Hogan had saved him. Hogan knew something was wrong but he had to listen for a few minutes to figure it out. Klink was answering the questions, but without his usual fear. He was sad, confused, and lonely; weaknesses Hochstetter would exploit. And Hogan found he couldn’t stand Klink to be that hurt anymore, not when he had the ability to take the pain away. His men stared after him as he went to save Klink without a word to them. 

Hogan reached Hilda’s office in time to hear Klink actually sound fierce. 

“That man is mine! The other prisoners are also under my protection from the likes of you! I cannot tell you why he saved my life, but the least I can do for him is to stop you from beating answers out of him. You decide you want any of my prisoners, you’d better have more authority than your condescending nature.” 

Hogan stood at the door, trying to understand what he had just heard. Klink was risking his life to stand up for the bastard who planned on leaving Wili to his dreams, rather than risk an inconvenient emotional involvement. Hochstetter also took a long time to respond to Klink’s uncharacteristic outburst. 

“Keep the others, just give me Hogan!” Hochstetter was trying to take control, so Hogan opened the door to become the target of his wrath. 

“Did somebody call my name?” A charming smile in place and only a hint of curiosity in his voice to suggest Hogan had no idea what was going on. Hochstetter whirled on Hogan and shouted at him. 

“Yes! Klink is releasing you into my custody. I am taking you to headquarters, so we can find out all about you.” 

“Hochstetter! I am not giving you custody.” 

Hogan’s desire to get Klink out of the line of fire had to be squashed so his brain could work this situation. “Hey guys, I don’t want you to spoil your friendship over little o’ me.” 

“Friendship?” Hochstetter spat out the word, like he thought it would poison him. “I want to shoot Klink between the eyes!” 

“Exactly. Your enemies you would torture before killing.” 

“And you are my enemy, Hogan!” 

“Apparently not, or else you would have killed me when I was your guest a few days ago.” 

“You are an enemy to the Third Reich and I will see you dead if it’s my last act in this life!” 

“I bet it looks something like this.” Hogan cocked his head to the side, closed his eyes and let his tongue dangle out of his mouth. Klink must have smiled but Hochstetter poked Hogan in a healing bruise. It only hurt because it was unexpected, but Klink’s face shifted from amusement to anger in an instant. Hogan knew he had to take control, or Klink’s obvious emotions would get them both killed. 

“You will tell me where you got a tire to fix the car. Then you will tell me why you saved Klink.” 

“Well, it sounds silly when you say it out loud.” 

“What?” Hochstetter suspected Hogan was more than a model prisoner, but without proof he could only get explosively angry at Hogan’s lack of fear. Hogan had to use Hochstetter’s volatile nature to make him leave, but looked to make sure Klink wouldn’t mess things up. Klink sighed and deflated before sitting in his chair, all his ferocity gone for some reason. 

“I was afraid the Iron Colonel would come back from the dead to torment my men further.” 

“Hogan!” Both Germans protested that statement, but Klink’s seemed to lack a genuine outrage. 

“As for the tire, it was just laying on the side of the road, twenty feet behind the Colonel’s car. I thought maybe it had fallen off of somebody else’s car, like yours Major. Have you seen your spare lately?” 

Hochstetter looked between them for a long moment, before making a dismissive gesture with his hands. “Bah! I will get you both for this!” 

Klink watched Hochstetter storm out of the office, but still jerked when the volatile major slammed the door behind him. Hogan took the time to walk over to Klink’s side of the desk and start riffling through papers. Reflexively, Klink slapped his hand away from the papers, only to leave his hand on top of Hogan’s. There was so much Rob wanted to say, but he knew his men were still listening. 

“Hogan, you didn’t really steal Hochstetter’s tire, did you?” 

“Why Colonel, do you think I’m capable of a thing like that?” Hogan said with a hurt expression, but he was grinning when he leaned down to kiss Wili. 

It was a short, silent kiss, but Rob was gratified to see proof of Wili’s enjoyment tenting his pants. Offering Klink a sloppy salute from the doorway, Hogan got to see a look of pure joy before he closed it behind him. He’d just made a dream come true and that was almost as heady as being in love, even if he was in love with Klink. 

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 


End file.
